


Keep You On My Side

by gayexol



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Crush, Daydreaming, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Football, High School, M/M, Making Out, One Shot, Romantic Angst, Sports, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8585296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayexol/pseuds/gayexol
Summary: Robbie's a drifter among his peers at school, barely speaking a word to anyone in his classes. But he does have an awfully bad habit of spending his time down at the football field, where he's harboring a pitiful little crush on a specific, bright-eyed player. Maybe one day he'll muster up the courage to talk to him, or do something more?





	1. My First and Last

**Author's Note:**

> honestly whats happening to me  
> im really screaming i cant believe ive done this i wanna die  
> i mean its almost so good that you forget its a damn lazy town fanfic  
> have fun yall

Robbie knows why he’s here. Too well. He’s not going to lie to himself.

He was here most days, quietly crouched in the back edges underneath the bleachers, thumbs absently rubbing together as he watched the football team go through drills and exercises during their afternoon practice. He looked on for a moment, the sun overhead glistening off of their starch white jerseys.

Robbie had the least amount of interest in football - barely any, if all -anything that required even the smallest requirement of exercise was distasteful to him. The entire _concept_ of sports was bewildering to him, to say the least. But, something on the football team caught his eye time and time again.

More like _someone._

Robbie grumbled, dutifully kicking at the pristine grass of the field in discontent as he chastised himself for letting this little predicament of his get so out of hand. He lifted his gaze from his shoes and let them drift towards the players skirmishing between each other.  

One of the players, presumably the quarterback, arched backwards and launched the football towards the safety net at the back end of the field, hitting it so perfectly that it seemed physically impossible to recreate. But a second later, he sighed, as if his throw was mediocre, and did the motion all over again.

Robbie was so awestruck by the quarterback that he didn’t even notice the sleek brown hair tied back by his helmet. Sportacus wiped the sweat off his panting face and continued, unaware of Robbie’s shameless stare. He had to blink a couple of times to regain some composure, unconsciously pushing back against the bleachers, hoping that they could hide his shadowed form.

 _So he’s the quarterback, then? I’ll have to remember that_.

No surprise there. Sportacus seemed to be entirely obsessed with it all; and by “it”, Robbie really means being _healthy_. There seemed to be nothing Sportacus wouldn’t try in order to remain fit, whether it be countless hours playing sports or exercising. And, by God, the man even eats vegetables. _Vegetables._

It’s enough to make Robbie shudder. But at the same time, it’s vaguely intriguing. He wanted to spend more time with Sportacus. He needed to.

Other than the occasional glance in the crowded hallways of their high school, Robbie is disappointed to say that he doesn’t get to interact with Sportacus much other than these secluded moments, Robbie’s lingering gaze hidden away by the clumsily loud football practice around him.

But lately, Sportacus seemed to have the same idea. One day, Robbie noticed that Sportacus had conveniently moved up a desk in the math class they share, and the next, he gave Robbie a polite little wave when they passed in the halls.

Those are the days where Robbie feels overjoyed, a bit smitten if he may add, but he’ll never admit it. It’s something memorable whenever Sportacus takes the time out of his day to offer Robbie a tiny grin or a wave, something that breaks the monotonous normality of daily high school life.

And Robbie had to say it- Sportacus looked _good_ , overall. The way he always looked so prim and tailored drove him insane, and that damn goofy blue shirt of his never failed to get Robbie to crack a smile when he thought about it. He wondered what that muscular quarterback looked like without the ridiculous getup. What he looked like without any clothes on at all.

Robbie shook his head to dispel the treacherous thought, as if in fear of someone reading his mind. He glanced over at the football team to make sure they were still pushing each other and shouting as they usually do, but he was surprised to instead see them retreating off the grass and into the locker room.

How long had he been out here? Robbie watched the team practice so often it almost seemed like muscle memory, but he assumed that he was just so caught up in thinking about Sportacus that he’d lost track of time.

Speaking of Sportacus, where was he?

Robbie stole another glance at the open field, guessing that he’d followed his team mates into the locker room already. He sighed, tucking away his books and papers into his bag in preparation to leave the football field and head back home.

If he wasn’t careful with this understandably awkward crush of his, Robbie was going to do something he’d regret, and embarrass himself. Or worse, end up actually _kissing_ Sportacus. The mere thought of it made his head reel.

As a loner, he was just that- alone. So used to shrinking his tall frame down, so used to becoming invisible, that he could not even imagine the day where Sportacus actually talked to him. Why would he though; the big, beloved quarterback showing any real interest in Robbie felt impossible.

With a tiny huff, Robbie pushed himself upright onto his legs, turning to face the bleachers once more to pick up his pencil and phone before tucking them into his pocket. He brushed off the last remnants of grass still sticking to the back of his jeans and turned around, suddenly startled by a shorter man in front of him.

Robbie’s bag very nearly slipped out of his shocked fingers. He blinked multiple times in disbelief; almost not registering the he was staring straight into Sportacus’ bemused blue eyes, the same shade of blue as the cloudless afternoon sky above them. The two of them stood in front of the other, both silent underneath the bleachers as Sportacus peered up at Robbie.

“You like football, hm?” Sportacus murmured calmly, almost akin to a tease, voice smooth as silk as he placed his hands on his hips.

“Sportacus! Funny to find you here, yeah? I was just… hanging out!” Robbie mumbled, already breathless, sporting a maddeningly cheesy grin as he tried to lean back on the bleachers, cool and collected as can be.

“…Hanging out? Beneath the bleachers, alone, during a football practice?” Sportacus laughed, crossing his arms as a smirk tinged his expression.

“Yes. Yes! Absolutely, you got me! I’ll be on my way now, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow!” Robbie huffed out a nervous laugh and tried to side-step past the other man, trying dreadfully hard not to make eye contact with him. The guy could probably _smell_ fear.

Before he could exit the bleachers and run as fast as he can away from the school, Robbie was stopped by a hand splayed out across his chest, preventing him from leaving. “Don’t play dumb with me, Robbie. I’ve seen you here before, same time, same place, almost every practice. And just _who_ are you watching out on that field?”

Robbie shuddered despite himself, cocking his head to the side, trying to rack his brain for an answer where he could seek none. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to respond, but nothing came out. He was truly short-circuited.

Robbie wondered whether Sportacus could feel the rapid-fire beats of his heart hammering against his palm.

“I think,” Sportacus whispered, leaning up to Robbie’s ear,” I think, you’re here to see _me_.”

They were close, too close, and even though Robbie’s taller than Sportacus it felt like he was caught. He turned his head, and they very nearly bumped noses. If he dared to lick his suddenly too-dry lips, Robbie would risk kissing Sportacus.

Sportacus’ eyes, half-lidded and dark, still cling to his own. Robbie doesn’t miss the way that his pupils dip down to the curve of his lips, just for a second, before looking back up. He feels the slightest inclination to move, but Robbie finds his legs completely frozen in place.

The tension between them is pushing fire underneath Robbie’s skin, and he makes an absent observation about the fact that he has goosebumps travelling up his spine, a dark blush no doubt creeping up his neck.

He wants to. Wants him.

“Robbie,” Sportacus hummed, tilting his chin up, tipping his head to the side. That damn hand was still pressed against his chest.

Robbie’s hands find themselves tracing up Sportacus’ arms on their own accord, fingertips gently pressed against the pin-point slope of his jaw. Without hesitation, he wasted no time in leaning forward, closing the worrying gap between them with a gentle kiss.

In a single second, in one moment, everything, everyone else, anything unimportant at all has snapped out of reality and faded away from their minds until there is nothing, _nothing_ left in this world but Robbie and Sportacus.

His eyes fluttered close, eyebrows knitting together as Sportacus surged into the kiss. Robbie has never done something so seriously, something he meant _so much_ , ever before ever in his life. Sportacus’ skin is still warm from the football practice and Robbie is eager to know how it would feel on his fingertips.

Where Sportacus’ demeanor is upfront and bold, his actions are the opposite; all soft touches and low breaths that leave Robbie flustered and blushing. His parted lips feel impossibly soft against his own, and Robbie wondered how long he could keep the two of them locked together like this forever.

But suddenly, and all too soon, Sportacus dips his head back, taking in a shallow breath as he eyed Robbie through his lashes. Robbie can feel his cheeks flare up as his pupils flickered to the trampled grass below them, hands forgetting to leave Sportacus’ face.

He’s about to back up, question whether he did something wrong, when Sportacus leans forward, grabbing Robbie by his hips and backing him up against the back wall of the bleachers. Robbie’s eyes go wide when he sees the other man with a wild grin on his face, and in the same moment, they’re kissing again.

This time, it’s different though- _very_ different, with Sportacus threading his fingers Robbie’s hair, pinning him against the wall as he puts his weight on him. Their chests are touching; they’re that close, and Robbie can scarcely think through the haze of desire around them.  

Sportacus makes a tiny noise of affirmation when Robbie lets his hands fall to the curve of his back, desperate to be as close as possible, wanting Sportacus to never back away again. He takes a short moment to catch his breath, and uses this opportunity to press heated kisses along the sensitive skin along Robbie’s neck, taking a second to plant one on his collarbone.

 _God_ , Robbie could die right now and he’d be pretty happy.

When their lips collide again, Sportacus intentionally slots a leg between his thigh, and Robbie uses all of the might he has left to refrain from snapping his hips up. He groans from deep within his throat, a low, hallow sound that sounds inhuman to him.

He could swear that he feels Sportacus smile against his lips. How long has he been noticing Robbie show up to his practices? More importantly, how long has he wanted to do _this_ to him?

Robbie’s a few minutes away from unravelling in Sportacus’ grasp, and he might pass out from oxygen deprivation but he doesn’t care as long as Sportacus kisses him back like he’s desperate for it. His fingers trail along his waistline until he finds the quarterback’s belt loops, where he clutches onto them and tugs Sportacus incessantly closer to his heated body.

They can’t stop kissing and Robbie feels drunk with it, so dazed that he almost doesn’t realize that Sportacus has finally stepped back, opening up that worrying gap between them again.

“I trust you’ll be at the next practice?” he pants, a little breathless and a little worked up, lips already bruised and red because of _Robbie_. The childish thought makes him grin.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Robbie quips back, gasping as he regains his breath.

Sportacus plants one last kiss to Robbie’s lips and then turns, sauntering out from underneath the bleachers like everything was normal.

“He better take off that ridiculous shirt of his next time,” Robbie quietly mumbled as he slid down the wall of the bleachers and leaned against it, a satisfied, dopey smile plastered across his face.

 


	2. Let It Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie is going to drop out of high school at this rate. If he could make it through one class without having his thoughts be ultimately stuck to Sportacus, he'd be overjoyed. This, as unfortunately delightful as it would be, isn't the case.  
> And now, Sportacus wants him to go to the football game tonight?  
> Someone just call Robbie an ambulance already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my young friends here is your christmas gift  
> of hell  
> my life is ruined bc of sportarobbie  
> but i hope yall have fun lol  
> shoutout to mel for giving me the inspiration to write this  
> love ya buddy :^)

The next day at school quite literally felt like a dream. Robbie nearly pranced through the halls, the same pleasant, washed out smile from yesterday plastered across his lips. An unfamiliar, but pleasant, warmth has stayed with him since yesterday, so strong that he can feel it in his fingertips.

Robbie hardly lingered in the halls, trailing alongside the lockers as if he needed them to support his overly weightless body towards class. A few kids shot some wary glances at him as they moved to scurry out of his way, unsure whether to be apprehensive towards Robbie’s no doubt _new_ attitude.

His classmate’s confused expression aren’t totally without reason, because a Robbie Rotten that doesn’t snap at some of freshmen before the first bell rings is one that they do not know well.

He paid it no mind, of course. He blissfully wandered into home room, downright _humming_ , sitting placidly with his legs crossed and hands folded at his desk.

But behind this trial joviality is a vague sense of anticipation, maybe even anxiety. Should he… say something to Sportacus? Robbie will see that immaculate quarterback in the halls at least once today, so he might as well get it over with.

Only one problem, though; he has absolutely no idea what he’d say.

Robbie does have a feeling that he’ll be too preoccupied with the phantom feeling of Sportacus’ lips crashing against his own to say anything.

And yes, he hasn’t stopped thinking about it, not even for a second. When Robbie reflects on it a little bit _too_ much, his fingers curl up as if he was yet again slipping them into the soft fabric of Sportacus’ uniform.

God, he should not be this distracted. He’s just an average high school student who should probably be thinking about menial, inane things, like what he’ll do this weekend, or whether or not he should wear a coat tomorrow, or if he has a test in chemistry today-

A girl three rows and a desk away lifted up her textbook and a flash of vibrant blue comes with it, and suddenly Robbie can’t stop, can’t even imagine thinking about anything but Sportacus.

He wanted to find out where the _hell_ Sportacus was and shove him against the lockers, just so he can see that wild, proud glimmer in his eyes that he rarely sees outside of the football field.

Robbie wanted to kiss him so hard that his lungs turned to ice, wanted to kiss him right there in the crowded hallways for everyone to see and by God he wouldn’t stop even if Principal Meanswell ordered him to.

He wanted to bite on Sportacus’ lips and thread his fingers into his hair and shove his hands up underneath that hideous uniform just to show Sportacus how completely infatuated Robbie is with him.

“Mr. Rotten! Care to get your head out of the clouds and rejoin the class?” Miss Busybody slammed her hands down on Robbie’s desk, effectively pulling him out of his daydream.

“I, I…” Robbie stammered, leaning back in his chair and hoping that his cheeks would stop burning. He could almost feel his classmates bemusedly waiting for his response.

Thankfully, the shrill electronic ring of the bell echoed through the classrooms, and Robbie’s embarrassment was covered by the shuffling of hundreds of students. He had thought about Sportacus for an entire class period?

_What an accomplishment._

Robbie nervously smiled at Mrs. Busybody, grabbing his binder and papers off of his desk so quickly that they nearly fell through his hands. He gave her a strained little nod as he shuffled out of the doorway and into the halls, glad that he could disappear, unnoticed, into the crowd.

Robbie shook his head at himself and raised his eyes, scanning over the tops of student’s heads absently. In the corner, a kid wearing a blue shirt ran over to his friends, and Robbie couldn’t help snapping his gaze over to them.

It’s not Sportacus, of course.

Robbie noticed that he was almost near his locker, and usually he’d see Sportacus and his football entourage thunder down the hallway. But today, Robbie didn’t see a single jersey. He sighed, tucking his binder closer to his side as he shifted out of the crowd.

Inputting his locker combination with a tiny disappointed frown on his lips, Robbie opened the now unlocked door, surprised to see a small piece of paper drift to the tile by his feet. Robbie glanced around the hall, seeing no one of interest, and bent down, fingers grasping the corner of the note.

He unfolded it gently, noting how the inked words were faded by fingerprints, as if someone had read it and reread it countless time before finally deciding to tuck it into Robbie’s locker. The printed letters were small and neat, looking quite similar to the notes Sportacus took down in class.

_Can’t wait to see you at the football game tonight!!_

_-Sportacus_

Football game? Tonight? Robbie could hazily remember the occasional clamor of excited students and faculty the days of home games, but he’d never actually think he’d go to a real one. Too many people. Too many people to see him staring at Sportacus, really.

God, that quarterback was going to be the death of him. Robbie reread the words _“can’t wait to see you_ ” over and over again in his mind, blushing slightly not only from Sportacus’ blind assurance that Robbie would be at the game, but also that he wanted to see him.

Robbie stood there, affixed in place at his locker, oblivious to the seconds he had left to rush to his next class. He squinted at Sportacus’ note, imagining himself at that football game; him alone among the wild, thrumming crowds of fans, pushing and shoving each other underneath the harsh lights of the field.

It was a less than ideal event for Robbie, but he could practically hear the excitement coming from Sportacus’ words. He _had_ been invited to go, and to let down Sportacus down would no doubt crush Robbie as well.

The near fire-alarm screech of the second bell rang mutely in Robbie’s head as he made the final decision to attend the game, a tiny, pleased sigh slipping from his lips as he shook his head, still looking down at the note.

He’ll get to see Sportacus, rest assured. Robbie will just have to find a way to get through the rest of the day without falling face-first into his daydreams again.

***

_Wow._

What a near disaster this day had turned out to be for Robbie- it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’s still fully intact. He’d almost tripped down the stairs, had knocked into several students, and had made a fool of himself in front of a handful of teachers.

All before lunch. Sportacus is really going to get him killed.

Robbie huffed as he crossed the front lawn of school, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the unyielding light of the sun above him. He squinted his eyes to cut through the glare as his feet shuffled through the grass, gaze drifting around the groups of teens huddled together after the final bell, all ready to go home.

He continued walking, keeping to the back edges of the seemingly ancient school, the thought of Sportacus’ whereabouts never quite leaving the back of him mind. Robbie’s eyes caught on the imposing, neon yellow goal of the football field, and he stopped his leisurely pace to stare unblinkingly at the field.

Robbie ducked his head and smiled, scratching at the back of his head self-consciously as if he was wary of someone seeing his foolish grin. It had barely been a full 24 hours since that… _event_ that had quite literally changed Robbie’s life had occurred, but it felt like it was years ago.

And now here he was, standing silently by himself in the back corner of his school, smiling like a madman at a field of grass and empty bleachers in front of him. Robbie became aware of the oddity of it and exhaled, taking a short glance over at the bleachers before picking up his pace again.

He fidgeted with his backpack as he followed the path back to his house, taking a look at the bright, newly-taped football team posters plastered onto the high school’s brick walls as he passed them by. Robbie paused at one of them for a moment, eyeing the bold font that shouted _“Let’s Go Lazy Town Lions!”_ at him, and noticed that Sportacus’ cheerful face was looking back at him on the poster.

Robbie glanced around, and without hesitation, he grabbed the flyer and shoved it into his backpack.

He applauded himself for being entirely, pathetically in love with Sportacus as he rounded one last corner, the final secluded pathway beside the school that led him out of the campus and towards his house.

 _Uh._ What the fuck?

The air was knocked out of Robbie’s lungs as he was quickly pulled aside and pushed against the back wall of the school, blinking in response to the initial stun of the sudden force. He regained some semblance of what had just happened when he saw picture-perfect representation of the cheery football poster looking up at him.

“Sportacus? Where have you been?” Robbie mumbled, eyes darting to the quarterback’s arms that were on both of his shoulders, keeping him against the wall behind him. “…I didn’t see you anywhere in school today.”

Sportacus realized that he was once again dangerously close to Robbie, and dropped his arms back to his sides to give Robbie some breathing room. He licked his lips as he thought of a response, Robbie not daring to take his eyes off of him.

“Got off class early because of the game. Perks of being a quarterback, I guess,” Sportacus hummed, tipping himself back on his heels and giving Robbie a grin. “What, did you miss me?”

Robbie’s heart stirred behind his ribs as he grew flustered at Sportacus’ teasing, mustering up the courage to not let it show. “No! It was a perfectly reasonable request to want to know where you were, Sportacus. The real question is; how’d you know I’d be here? You follow me or something?”

 _Absolutely caught_. Robbie’s never been particularly smooth, even more so when talking to people he likes, but he had to be devious just once. The surprise is instantaneously shown on Sportacus’ face, with the tips of those ears of his turning a crimson red with blush.

“Well,” he started meekly, “I practice on the field a lot, as you would surely know. I see you coming this way after school sometimes, that’s all.”

Sportacus watches him when school gets out? Robbie himself is surprised by answer.

“Speaking of the field, are you coming to the football game tonight? We’re against some backwater team, it’ll be an easy win. It’d be… cool if you went.” Sportacus showed off that award-winning smile of his again, and Robbie already knew that he was done for.

“Yes, I’ll be there, Sportacus. But if a single drop of face paint or a jersey gets near me, it’s over,” Robbie said, taking a minuscule step forward.

“Great! I’ll see you there!” Sportacus exclaimed so gleefully that Robbie half expected for him to do a backflip.

He turned and took a short step to the football field nearby, but he paused, as if he were considering something, and then turned back around and closed the space between the two of them. In one quick motion, Sportacus had grabbed Robbie by his shirt and pulled him downwards into a swooping kiss.

He turned their heads so they were perfectly aligned with each other, the smooth motion of it all not failing to make Robbie’s pulse quicken. _God_ , he had been waiting for this all day, and he kissed Sportacus back in way he didn’t know he had missed.

Robbie let his hands rest languidly on the small of Sportacus’ back, leaning the two of them back against the school’s brick wall, wishing that they would have all the time in the world to just do this. The simplicity of their kiss was familiar and comforting, but knowing that _Sportacus_ was the one who Robbie was holding onto made it feel even better.

Sportacus broke them apart to take a breath, leaning his forehead against Robbie’s as he let his eyes slip closed, a tinge of heat rolling of his body. His lips twitched upwards in the smallest smile, and he absently trailed a palm down Robbie’s side.

“If we lose the game because I’m too distracted thinking about you, you better make up for it.” Sportacus whispered under his breath, tugging his hands away from Robbie and backing away, giving him a burning stare as he turned at last and jogged back to the football field.

Robbie let his weight sag against the school, taking a deep, shuddering breath as he watched Sportacus’ frame dart out of sight. His head rolled back, completely dependent on the wall behind him, and he looked up at the clouds above as he waited for his heart to stop trying to jump out of his chest.

If Robbie made it to the end of the month without dying, with his cause of death being obviously Sportacus, he’d consider himself lucky for once.


	3. You Were Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie feels a few things as he silently paces back in forth in front of the school.  
> 1) the football game is about to begin  
> 2) Sportacus really wants him to be there  
> 3) Robbie might just throw up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAAA LOL yall thought i was dead huh  
> i cant believe i wrote all of this kjhagjka  
> hope u guys like it (if anyone reads this lmao)  
> i wrote this like all in one go so srry in advance

Robbie Rotten isn’t afraid of many things. He’s afraid exercising, _obviously_. Being healthy? Definitely scary. But bring afraid of football games?

That’s a bit unexpected.

It’s not like he has a _phobia_ of them, but it’s just…. When Robbie thinks about football games, all he can think of are the endless, screaming, happy crowds of backwater students and their families, all shoved onto bleachers in the sweltering heat. Maybe it’s claustrophobia?

But that’s not even the worst part. What if someone sees him? Imagining Pixel or Ms. Busybody recognizing him is enough to make Robbie feel sick. Oh god, what if they try to initiate some mindless conversation with him? What if they ask Robbie Rotten, the weirdo edgy kid whom is rarely seen outside of class, why he’s demonstrating his school spirit at a football game?

I mean, it’s not like Robbie’s sole motivation for attending this singular football game is because he wants to know if he can see the quarterback’s abs through his jersey.

Robbie can’t help but snicker to himself again, momentarily forgetting the momentous task of going outside is looming in the distance, always creeping in his periphery. God, why couldn’t Sportacus be more accommodating and suggest a far simpler meet up, like at the local abandoned train station? Or the convenience of hanging out beside the dumpster outside of school?

Robbie would’ve gone anywhere if it didn’t involve getting warily close to extracurricular activities. He can’t even _spell_ football.

Anxiously tapping his fingers against the sun-soaked soil, Robbie quirks his lips to the side in distaste as he lets his gaze hesitantly drift over to the glowing school in front of him. He cannot be having a crisis right here, right now, only a few hundred yards away from the entrance to the football stadium.

He’s thankful that he’s picked his usually secluded back corner of the school as his prime place to have a meltdown though; students and their overly joyous family members are steadily trickling in to grab their seats in the already-bustling stadium, but thankfully they’re just passing Robbie by.

There’s only about an hour left before the game actually starts, and Robbie can feel his pulse racing just by imagining walking into that metal death house, surrounded on all sides by the piercing eyes of hundreds of his peers. Robbie’s never really cared about attending these games until now, but the crackle of electric energy in the air is so poignant that he can almost hear it.

The entire school seems to come alive, one combined surge of cheers and passion overflowing the modest stadium and spilling out onto the park lot surrounding it, flooding up even to the weathered brick corner of the school where Robbie calls home. He can’t ignore it, and as much as he hates to say it, it electrifies him just to witness it.

He’s got an hour to decide whether or not he wants to see Sportacus again.

He bundles his knees up against his chest and rocks back and forth absently, weighing his options. Robbie certainly doesn’t want to barge in and make a fool of himself in front of his entire school, he should at least have some sort of plan, maybe a distraction.

He needs to make up his mind quickly, because from across the lot he can see just a small group of stragglers waiting in line to get their tickets, meaning that the game is about to start. Part of Robbie wants to cut his losses and dash for the nearest sanctuary away from the bustling stadium, but another part couldn’t stand to even imagine the disappointment on Sportacus’ face when he realizes that Robbie didn’t come.

Is that what Robbie wants to be? Just a jerk toying with Sportacus, someone who just takes what he wants from him and never returns the favor? Robbie’s heart sinks just from the thought.

Biting his lip, he fishes through his backpack next to him, seeing if there’s anything useful buried deep within the messy recesses of his bag. Comically, Robbie mutters disapproval to himself and shakes his head as he tosses old homework and discarded apple peels over his shoulder, scrunching his face up when his fingers linger on some unidentified furry object.

Finally, his fingers curl around something heart-shaped, and a smile slides onto his lips as Robbie yanks it out of his backpack. _Nice_ , heart sunglasses and a fake mustache to match, what a perfect disguise for sneaking into the football game!

Robbie shoves the costume onto his face, momentarily adjusting his new mustache with his fingertips and nodding to himself, sufficiently satisfied that his disguise will render his indistinguishable from any other attendee at the stadium. He doesn’t look ridiculous at all, and he knows that for a fact.

Robbie digs his hands into the grass and lurches upright onto his feet, using the wall behind him to steady his wobbling legs for a second as he composes himself and decides on his battle plan. He doesn’t have a ticket to the game, so he guess he’ll just use the back staircase adjacent to the football field and sneak into the tiny lot next to the bleachers. Not too difficult to manage, at least.

A booming cheer escapes from the glimmering stadium and Robbie’s heart leaps into his throat. Please, he hopes, let that not be a cheer for the football team running across the field. He has to be there when Sportacus runs out of the locker rooms, he has to. He doesn’t want him to think he skipped his game, not for a second.

He has to hurry.

Looking both ways across the parking lot, Robbie adjusts his imaginary bow tie before booking it across the pavement, spindly legs practically bounding past clusters of cars and mingling tailgaters chatting quietly underneath the clear night sky. He hops down an embankment, it barely slowing him down, before the familiar staircase comes into view.

Robbie is ready to pick up the pace again when he stops to a halt, bending over in half with his lungs wheezing, face flushed red from exertion. Is he _really_ that exhausted? He’d been running for no longer than a good fifteen seconds, but he’s already winded. Curse you, exercise.

Robbie gulps down air for another few seconds, pointedly ignoring the couple walking past him with a look of vague concern on their faces. That gloomy concrete staircase is the only thing separating him and a full 3D view of Sportacus’ abs and that is an opportunity he cannot dare to pass over.

With the ever-growing sea of cheers and chants filling the air around him, Robbie speed-walks over to the stairs, whipping his head from side to side to see if anyone will notice him sneaking into the game. A few kids are congregating around a hazy orange lamppost in the distance, cigarette smoke swirling into the night sky above them, but they don’t pay Robbie any mind. Good.

Robbie finally gets to the fabled staircase, leaning heavily on its long-rusted handrail for support as his eyes gaze over the empty green field below. Shielding his eyes to cut past the burning lights of the stadium, Robbie spots a group of cheerleaders and coaches congregating on the track below, them making last-minute plans before the football players storm out of the locker rooms.

Behind them, a sea of rowdy, half-belligerent Lazytown Lions fans push and shove each other in the overexcited crowd, many of them holding signs and banners proclaiming their support for the players in sloppy neon letters.

Someone over in the corner of the bleachers is even waving around a giant cardboard cutout of Sportacus’ head, his famous smile even more inviting than Robbie remembers. Yeah, he’s definitely going to steal that later.

Robbie stands on that staircase for another few moments, surveying the playing field around him like a king surveys his kingdom, him scoping out a possible point of entry to that back gravel lot without getting caught by a teacher. He debates whether or not he should stand over to the side of the track or merge into the growing group of band kids getting ready for their show near the lot.

He ultimately decides on standing by the fence on the track below, because Robbie doesn’t think the hundred or so band geeks would take too kindly to a lanky, poorly-disguised cartoonish villain trying to blend in as one of them.

Robbie nods as if he confirmed his own plan, outstretching one leg as he prepares to dash down the stairs and run to his hiding spot as soon as possible. Suddenly, a boom slices through the constant chanting of the sports fans around him, and confetti rains down from the entrance to the locker rooms. Cheerleaders rush across the field and hold up a paper banner with the snarling face of the school’s mascot glaring up at him.

_Oh shit._

“Shit, shit, shit,” Robbie whispers as he jumps precariously down the staircase, nearly missing each concrete step as he navigates the increasingly steep drops.

In front of him, he swears he can hear a growing roar coming from behind the Lion’s swaying banner; he doesn’t have much time left. If he trips now, he’s going to obviously either die, send himself into a coma, or accidentally blind himself and never be able to see Sportacus again. He has to be careful when there’s so much at stake.

Robbie leaps past the final drop of the staircase, landing on his feet with a dull thud. With his chest heaving from exertion again, Robbie absently tips his sunglasses back onto his face and shifts his mustache back into place, eyes sweeping quickly from side to side to see if anyone noticed him barreling down the ancient stairs behind him.

He’s, maybe, twenty or thirty feet away from the packed bleachers. Satisfied that he won’t be jumped by a patrolling teacher, Robbie lurks over to the track, silencing his footfalls against the synthetic ground. Thankfully, the sunset is starting to give way to the encroaching night, giving Robbie a little bit more cover.

His heart is beating so loudly in his ears that his head almost feels dizzy from it, but he manages to keep his composure by digging his hands into the chain-link fence in front of him and letting it support his weight as he leans over it, peering over the football field in anticipation for the Lions to come storming out.

Any second now. The crowd nearby seems to set itself alight; people are screaming even louder than before, their manic, frenzied symphony of cheers engulfing all other noise of the stadium. Then, Robbie feels it.

The ground underneath him starts shuddering, vibrating as the football team darts out of the lockers, with star quarterback leading the charge through the paper banner, it shredding instantly as the players rip it in half.

As the torn remnants of the Lions poster sway down to the ground, Robbie can’t look away. He doesn’t dare even blink as his eyes scan the faces of each player. His heart stops.

Sportacus has a smile on his face so bright it could light up the whole West coast with it.

Robbie won’t pretend here- he _lurches_ forward, eyes wide, immediately ripping off his horrible disguise. He doesn’t bother to care that someone might see him, he doesn’t even think about it, because Sportacus holding himself up with an air of confidence and charisma that Robbie has never seen before, and it’s intoxicating.

Sportacus seems charged up from the electricity of the crowd, humbly waving and pointing at all his friends in the bleachers as his team trails behind him. The expression on his face is one of unwavering bravado, effortless and attractive, and Robbie blinks a few times just to see if he’s really just imagining it all.

Robbie is mesmerized by the sight of it all- Sportacus looks like the most gorgeous thing he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. He feels like he should’ve paid to be here, given that he’s getting a front-row view of the most beautiful man in the entire world. Not to mention that he’s wearing a pretty tight football uniform, it barely covering his well-defined muscles. Robbie’s breath hitches just looking at him.

But as the Lions form up on the field, it’s noticeable that Sportacus is distracted; his face falls slightly, the grin on his face slipping into a look of anxiety as his eyes sweep the crowd. In an instant, Robbie knows why.

Sportacus is looking for _him_.

“Sportacus! Sportacus! Over here!” Robbie downright screams, lifting an arm over his head and gesturing wildly for the quarterback to just damn turn _his head around._

A few seconds pass by but they feel like ages, because if Sportacus doesn’t see Robbie jumping up and down over here, he might just pass out and die. But suddenly, just when Robbie is about to give up, Sportacus spins around on his heel and notices him.

Robbie feels like he’s flying. No really, he could melt here and not feel a thing. The look on Sportacus’ face is something he never wants to forget; his brightened grin is so full of adoration and relief that Robbie himself can’t help but match it.

“Robbie!” Sportacus shouts, and he doesn’t even hesitate before he takes off down the field, running over to the track before his teammates can protest.

Robbie blinks once, and then, Sportacus is _right there_ in front of him, in full view, his shorter frame nearly blocking his vision. Robbie reaches out without thinking, but Sportacus already had the same thing in mind. Sportacus’s hands grab onto his face and kisses him so hard that Robbie is afraid he’d might die from lack of oxygen.

“I knew you’d be here,” Sportacus says when they break apart finally, him already breathing heavily.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Robbie sighs, almost dreamily, one hand still holding onto Sportacus.

They share a lingering stare for a moment, completely absorbed just in each other’s presence, but then Sportacus realizes that the entire school is staring at them with bated breath, waiting for their quarterback to return to the field and actually start the game.

“Oh. Yeah. Right,” Sportacus laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ll see you after the game. That’s a promise.”

All Robbie can manage to do is nod once, his cheeks hurting from how wide his smile is. Sportacus gives him one last kiss, smiling and giving Robbie a cute little thumbs up before he jogs back over to his team. As soon as he leaves, Robbie lets out a yell, covering his face with his hands and blushing as if he was some unruly preschooler. He can’t help it, he just can’t help it when Sportacus is around.

Robbie sighs once more, giddily hanging on the fence as Sportacus and his team gets into formation, their opposing team walking out onto the field to a chorus of shouting. The referee blows his whistle once, and the game is finally on.

Robbie won’t lie; he doesn’t understand sports, so soon the hours trickle by with him barely noticing it. He’s so enthralled just by staring at Sportacus’s plays that he can’t seem to focus on anything else. He does know one thing though- the Lions are winning, with thanks due to their star QB.

But after a while, the game trickles down to its last few quarters, the fans still as loud as ever.

Robbie perks up when he realizes that they can score one last touchdown before the game is over, and he can already see Sportacus rushing to his other teammates to get into control of the ball.

Suddenly, there’s the moment of crystalline weightlessness; a fragmented second in time where everything seems brighter- better. Robbie can’t take his eyes off of Sportacus. He can see how Sportacus’s hot breaths cloud heavily in his helmet, gloved fingers tracing the delicate lacing on the football as it shifts in his hands.

Sportacus calculates his shot, and then he rears back and throws it effortlessly, it slicing through the electric air like a shark underwater. The screaming chants from the bleachers grow louder and louder with every yard the ball flies.

There’s something hot and crackling burning off the edge of Robbie’s skin like lightening and he can feel the air catch it. He flicks his eyes over to the stands and sees the crowd instantly hold their collective breath, watching the ball with amazement in their eyes.

Then, the field explodes, fans roaring at the home team, _Sportacus’s_ team. He managed to make it all the way to the end zone, and Robbie barely noticed.

Something’s stirring bold and bright in the dark of Robbie’s chest and it’s not all wild adrenaline. It’s something so foreign and overwhelming that Robbie finds himself clutching onto the chain-link fence, his body shoving himself over the edge of it before his feet land on the soft dirt of the football field.

As the loud blare of the final buzzer rings out across the field, fans, team, and coaches celebrating equally, Robbie runs faster than he’s ever ran in his entire life.

Someone taps Sportacus on the shoulder and he turns around right as Robbie is a few feet away from him. Sportacus takes one look at Robbie and instantly outstretches his arms, holding Robbie against him as he jumps into his arms, lips messily slotting together in the chaotic aftermath of the Lion’s victory.

Robbie is so weightless that all he can do is hold onto Sportacus for dear life, his hot, open-mouthed kisses making him feel so light that he might fly away. Robbie really can’t waste a single second into worrying about whether or not the school is staring at them, because he already knows that they are.

Sadly, Robbie _cannot_ find it within in himself to care.

When they both finally let go, Sportacus glances up at Robbie’s shit-eating grin. “Hey.”

“Lookin’ good out there, QB.”

“Yeah?” Sportacus asks, as if the entirety of the student body is not literally going insane all around them.

“Yeah.” Robbie replies, voice syrupy as he wraps his legs around Sportacus’ waist.

“I’m so glad you came,” Sportacus says, voice genuine and steady as he gazes into Robbie’s eyes.

“I am too,” Robbie whispers as he throws his arms around Sportacus’s shoulders and hugs him.


End file.
